


To Bell a Cat

by Bald_Fossil



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Cat, Cats, Comedy, Drama, Fantasy, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, He's also a cat, Love Story, M/M, One Shot, Otabek is a blacksmith, Romance, Shapeshifter, Writing Prompt, Yuri is a florist, obviously, otayuri - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-26
Updated: 2019-05-28
Packaged: 2020-03-19 12:19:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,021
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18969163
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bald_Fossil/pseuds/Bald_Fossil
Summary: Yuri is the most eligible bachelor around- much to his aggravation. Tired of fending of suitors with his rake, he decides to turn it into a game. Around the neck of his cat, is tied a key, and for whomever manages to catch her, catches his heart as well. Otabek isn't taking the wager, but rather falls into it accidentally.





	1. To Bell a Cat

**Author's Note:**

> I came across a tumblr prompt that I found perfect for an Otayuri oneshot. It is as follows:
> 
> 'Story idea: The most wanted woman in town has announced that she’ll only marry the one who can open her front door with the key around her cat’s neck. Many men try to hunt the cat down, chase and trap it, but to no avail, the cat is simply too quick, smart and clever, and always finds a way to evade and avoid them.
> 
> You are the first one to figure out the obvious: Do not chase the cat. The cat is befriendable. Get the cat to trust you, to genuinely enjoy your company, and you can hang out with the cat. You may eventually be allowed to touch the cat. The cat will freely let you take the key.
> 
> Secondary plot twist: The woman is a shapeshifter. She is the cat.'

**_To Bell a Cat_ **

__

* * *

 

 

_ “Leave _ .”

The acidic tone that the word dripped with was almost impressive. Otabek paused in his step, looking towards the porch of the house, where a very angry-looking man stood. Yuri Plisetsky was a tall and wispy thing, all legs and little else, aside from hair that shone like spun gold. It was braided simply and hung over his shoulder.

Two women stood before him, stars in their eyes. They sighed at the sight of him, hands clasped demurely. Except that they were anything  _ but _ , Otabek supposed. The women of this village could be pushy; Otabek knew that better than any-- he’d been on the receiving end of it more times than he could count.

“Oh but Mr. Plisetsky,” the girl closest to him crooned. She was cute enough, with brown hair that sparkled with slips of red beneath the afternoon sun. She adjusted her arms, pushing up her chest, trying to show herself off in  _ just the right way _ .

“I said leave,” he snapped, nothing bother to hide his disdain as he waved towards her breasts. “And take those with you.”

The girl frowned. “But--” The glare that the man shot her shut her up quick, and her friend burst into a howling laughter, moving to tug her away.

Yuri watched as they left his yard, arms crossed over his chest and a scowl set deep across his features. And then he noticed Otabek standing there, watching, bag of sand still slung over his shoulder. “What the fuck are you looking at?” Yuri snarled.

Otabek raised a brow. Despite everyone in the village  _ knowing _ of the man, Otabek didn’t talk to him much. He was the kind of man to admire from afar and keep quiet. Yuri kept to himself for the most part too; the people that sought him out were those like the girls-- distracted by his fine looks and intentions to bed him.

“You’re quite crass, aren’t you?” Otabek finally asked.

“What’s it to you?” Yuri asked right back, raising his chin in defiance.

That was a better look for him, Otabek decided, not the ugly snarl he had worn earlier. “Nothing,” he replied easily.

“They have no fucking boundaries,” Yuri snapped. “No means  _ nothing _ to them.”

“Perhaps if you spoke to them, like you did me, they’d leave you alone,” Otabek replied. “What woman likes a man with such a nasty mouth?”

Yuri blinked slowly at that, like he had never quite considered such a thing. And then, “Tch. Don’t you have somewhere to be?” His words were clipped, but the anger behind them had disappeared, leaving behind bitter annoyance. “Off smacking a hammer against some metal, or something?”

“ _ Smacking a hammer _ ,” Otabek repeated dryly. “There’s a little more to it than that.” Blacksmithing was a little more than complicated.

“I doubt that,” Yuri sneered. “You’re no better you know. Guys like you are all muscle and no brain. The little witches would be better off following you around instead.”

At that, Otabek smiled wryly. “Not so much. They really aren’t my type.”

“Aren’t your type--” Yuri started, but Otabek cut him off.

“Too young,” Otabek clarfied. Truth be told, Otabek’s type were tall and leggy blondes, usually with a smart mouth.  He wasn’t picky in regards to sex, but Yuri was by far the most interesting person in the village. Not that he’d ever tell him that.

Not that he’d even entertain it.

Yuri’s mouth twisted into a smirk at that, apparently agreeing. “Yeah, fucking children, if I didn’t know any better.” Then he remembered that he was angry at Otabek, and motioned him away. “Now scram.”

Otabek left him with nothing more than a little wave.

 

* * *

 

Otabek walked by Yuri’s home every day on the way to the smith. Most days were similar-- Yuri yelling angrily after a multitude of admirers, trying to scare them off. It seemed to have the opposite effect. 

Otabek got it, really he did. Yuri was  _ beautiful _ , with fae-like thin and narrow features. Tall, with wide shoulders, but narrow at the waist. His hair practically glittered in the sunlight that it captured, and it didn’t help that Yuri was the  _ vainest _ person that anyone knew. His grocery list at the apothecary for his cleaning routine was the stuff of gossip.

The more that he fought against them, the more they came. Strength in numbers, Otabek supposed. The larger the group, the more bold they were, which only added to the man’s aggravation.

That morning was different. Otabek saw a large group of women giggling about, while Yuri slumped around his yard. The one closest to him had pulled her neckline so low, it was amazing that she stayed within the confines of her dress.

“You know what? I’m fucking sick of this,” Yuri finally spat, slamming his rake down into the dirt. “One of you wants to marry me?  _ Okay _ . We’ll play a little game.”

Otabek paused in his step, dropping his sack of sand to the ground to listen.  _ Interesting _ .

“My cat,” he began simply, and Otabek cringed. Potya was a terror amongst the local folk, snapping at any wayward fingers that tried to pet her. She was a nasty creature, with a nasty temper, and it made sense that a man with an equally foul disposition would find a friend in her. “She holds the key to my heart, as well as the key to my home. I’ll tie it around her neck. To whom ever manages to capture her and take the key, you can let yourself in. And then I’ll marry you, or whatever.”

“Your  _ cat _ ?” a woman screeched, a tall one with flaming red hair. “How hard could that possibly be?”

At that Yuri smirked, the grin spread wide across his face, dangerous looking. “Make no mistake in thinking this little game will be  _ easy _ . As such, I offer you one piece of advice-- Potya and I, are one and the same.”

The woman snorted at that. “How on earth is that advice?”

“To woo me, you have to woo her. She is the keeper of everything that I have.” Yuri shrugged at that. “In the meantime, I will be left  _ alone _ .”

Yuri didn’t seem the type to make such a bet, so part of Otabek was intrigued. When the crowd finally dispersed, he remained, watching the man quietly as he raked leaves.

“I’m surprised that they didn’t make you promise,” Otabek finally said.

Yuri looked up and scoffed. “You again. You know, you’ve never bothered me before, but you’re starting to.”

“Doesn’t change my observation.”

Yuri paused, leaning on his rake. “I’m a lot of things,  _ Ironworker _ , but I always keep my word.”

“Then why make such a wager?”

At that, Yuri smirked, a rare and subtle thing and said, “Because there’s no way for them to  _ actually _ win.”

 

* * *

 

It was in the coming days, that Otabek realized he usually saw the cat, more than Yuri himself.

He had ever really paid attention to the man before, but with the wager and the entire village on high alert, it was suddenly noticeable. The most eligible bachelor around had promised his hand, and despite the absurdity of the  _ game _ , the village was eating it up like bait. There wasn’t a morning that he walked by Yuri’s home, that there wasn’t a person looking for Potya.

And it wasn’t like Otabek  _ sought _ the place out, it just happened to be on the way to the Smithy.

But he couldn’t deny how entertaining it was, watching person after person stalk after the cat.

_ Especially _ Mila, the red-headed woman, hiking up her skirt as she trudged around in Yuri’s yard, trying to avoid the mud. She wasn’t very successful.

On the way back to his home for lunch, Otabek watched as Potya slipped from her fingertips, causing her to scream in frustration. It was something he didn’t quite understand-- the innate need to settle down with someone. It wasn’t that Otabek wasn’t interested, it just wasn’t something that was  _ important _ .

Sure, the women of the village were cute and all, but they weren’t needed. He got along fine on his own. It was hassle free and no-drama, and the only person he had to take care of was himself.

And sure, people  _ talked _ , but he didn't really care about it. It was the same shit that they said about Yuri. Oh,  _ what a shame, someone so handsome with no one to look after him _ . Oh,  _ what a waste of a man _ .

Otabek snorted at that. The only waste around here, was the time spent chasing around a cat that they would  _ never _ catch, all because they felt the need to have something  _ more _ .

One month into the wager, he spotted Potya walking along the stone hedge that surrounded Yuri’s property. Otabek paused and she was poised to dart away, but Otabek made no move. And so, she didn’t either.

He stared at her. She was a fluffy thing, soft ivory fur with a gray face. Cute, really, if you liked cats. Otabek wasn’t  _ particularly _ fond of them, but he’d never really given them a chance, he supposed. He didn’t have time to look after a creature, with all the times he set about work.

“You take care of yourself mostly, don’t you?” he asked the cat. It wasn’t like she _ understood _ him, but the tone and kindness were there. “Yuri just kind of let’s you do your own thing.” Potya blinked, her tail swishing slightly behind her. She was still poised to move as soon as he did, but he made no move to go closer.

“Lucky guy, I guess,” Otabek continued. “Keep it up. The running away thing, I guess. He’s depending on you.”

Potya cocked her head to the side, and if Otabek didn’t know any better, it seemed like she understood.

 

* * *

 

Two months in and Yuri was still winning. Otabek was honestly surprised that the townsfolk hadn’t given up yet, but then again… Yuri was  _ that _ handsome, he supposed. At least they’d left himself alone. Otabek finally had room to breathe.

Potya was as slippery as ever, but when Otabek would walk to and from work, she’d taken to walking alongside the stone beside him. She probably liked him because he didn’t  _ try _ . He didn’t really want to.

That day though, Potya wasn’t to be found, and instead Yuri was in the front lawn raking leaves. Except this time he was  _ shirtless _ . Otabek swallowed thickly, watching the muscles of his arms flex as he raked. He was thin, but lean, and suddenly he saw the appeal that drove the women flocking to him.

“Hey, you,” Yuri called out as Otabek walked by, pausing in his work to lean on the rake. Otabek turned to him, unable to hide the surprise that floated across his face. “So uh,  _ I saw you _ ,” he said, “with uh--- with Potya.”

“She’s a good cat,” Otabek said simply.

“You have no intention of chasing after her?”

Otabek blinked at that. “Er-- should I?”

“No!” Yuri said immediately. Otabek frowned slightly, a worried expression tugging at his face, prompting the other man to continue. “I was just curious, I guess. Surprised.”

“Why does that surprise you?”

“Well I mean, it seems like  _ everyone _ wants me.”

At that, Otabek raised an eyebrow. “Who says I don’t want you?” Yuri’s mouth dropped open in surprised, causing Otabek to laugh. “I’m joking,” he cut in, and Yuri snapped his mouth shut. “You really are that vain, aren’t you?”

Yuri scoffed. “Of course I am. I mean, have you seen me?”

“Yes,” Otabek replied. “But I only see a man that wants to be left alone.”

At that, Yuri’s face fell the slightest bit. “No one gets me,” he said back. “It’s not that I want to be  _ alone _ , but rather people don’t try to get to know me. To them, I’m only a handsome face. Perhaps what I want is a  _ friend _ .”

Otabek hummed at that. “Perhaps you should reassess your treatment of others then.”

“God, you’re a fucking asshole, aren’t you?”

“Pot meet kettle,” Otabek said, shrugging.

“ _ Anyway,” _ Yuri continued, “Potya likes you. So there’s that.”

“And I like Potya. She’s quiet.”

Yuri shifted his stance slightly, his head cocking to the side. “And what about me?” He seemed genuinely curious, so Otabek responded in kind.

“I’m still trying to figure that one out.”

 

* * *

 

The first time Otabek offered Potya a piece of chicken, she sniffed it, made a hacking sound and then scampered off. Otabek might have been offended if he hadn’t remembered that she was a  _ cat _ . Sure, cats could seem picky, but they were still animals. It had probably just smelled weird to her.

The second time he offered her food, she sniffed it again, seeming to actually consider taking it. She didn’t, leaving Otabek behind to stand awkwardly at the edge of Yuri’s home. He left before the man could come out and shoo him away.

The third time, he brought her his mother’s cooking. He ate with her once a week and she sent leftovers home every time. And so, he held out a small piece of  _ manti _ to her, and she warily sniffed it.

“I don’t know if it’s okay to feed lamb to a cat but… well, I mean, it’s tasty… so…”

Potya blinked at his words, her tail swishing back and forth. And then she leaned forward to take a bite. She must have liked it, because she came back to finish the piece, moving to lick the remaining bits off of Otabek’s fingers.

“Well, that’s that, I suppose,” he said with a gentle smile.

Potya didn’t stick around after that, but it didn’t stop Otabek from bringing her a bite every time he visited his mother. 

Eventually, Yuri noticed.

“Hey, you.” Yuri was waiting for him it seemed, leaning against the stone fence where Potya usually did. “All that food you’re giving her is going to make her fat,” he said, but it lacked the anger that was typical of Yuri. Instead, a sly smile crossed his face in amusement.

Otabek was surprised. Otabek  _ liked _ this side of Yuri. This was also the closest he’d ever been to the man, and he was struck by how tall Yuri was in comparison to himself.

“My name’s  _ Otabek _ ,” he said, realizing that he’d never properly introduced himself. “And she doesn’t have to take it.” Otabek then paused. “How did you even know?”

“I have eyes, dumbass. As well as a window.” Yuri gestured halfheartedly to his home.

“You’re just jealous that she’s my friend,” Otabek said.

Yuri hummed at that, brushing some of his hair behind his ear. “Or maybe I’m just jealous someone brings her food.”

“People bring you food  _ all the time _ .” Otabek had seen it.

“Yeah, but not from  _ you _ .” Otabek blinked at that, and Yuri froze, like he hadn’t really meant to say that. “Uh, what I mean to say is--”

“If you want some of my mother’s cooking Yuri, just ask.”

“For all I know, Potya has bad taste,” Yuri snapped right back, his typical tone finding its home.

“Potya is a  _ cat _ .”

Yuri’s eyes narrowed into slits. “There’s more to a cat than people think, you know.”

“Just like there’s more to you, than people think,” Otabek replied. Yuri froze again, his cheeks tinting a slight shade of pink as he considered Otabek’s words. “In any case,” Otabek continued, moving to pull an oilcloth from his pack. He held it out to Yuri, who eyed it warily in return. “Here, you can have it. Share it with Potya.”

Yuri hesitated for a moment, before taking it. They brushed hands, and Otabek was surprised by how calloused the other man’s were. All the yardwork, he realized. Yuri was a florist, he remembered, and all the pruning and shearing required had taken its toll.

Otabek’s were worse, of course.

They parted without a proper goodbye, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. In fact, Otabek quite  _ liked _ the warmth that filled his chest.

And the next time that he saw Potya, he held his hand out to scratch behind her ear.

She accepted without hesitation.

 

* * *

 

Potya found him, after that.

. Otabek was usually the one to seek her out, but now she always seemed to be waiting for him. Silly, that he considered that a cat might be his best friend, but Yuri thought the same, so maybe it wasn’t such a wild concept. 

One day, she strolled into the Smithy, jumping onto a work table, shaking out her legs. His boss turned around, surprised to find her there, nearly dropping his work.

“Uh… isn’t that…” Takeshi started with, but then fumbled slightly when Potya stepped closer to the forge. A  _ little too close _ , and Otabek reached out to pluck her up like it was nothing.

“Ah, Yuri’s cat Potya,” he said, cradling her against his chest. Potya didn’t struggle against the touch, leaning in for a pet. Takeshi’s eyes widened at the display, at how Otabek casually rubbed behind her ears.

“Does the uh… I mean, you’ve  _ caught _ the cat?”

Otabek blinked, suddenly realizing what he meant. He set her down on a different table, one far from the active forge. “I mean, I wasn’t  _ trying _ to,” Otabek replied, shifting in slight discomfort. It wasn’t  _ untrue _ , but as of late, Yuri had been more and more on his mind.

Probably because Yuri had been chatting him up  every time they crossed paths. They had eased into a sort of friendship, and Otabek found himself looking forward to the words they usually shared on his walk home.

Takeshi hadn’t needed to catch the cat, because he was  _ happily _ married, so he likely thought nothing of it. Until he’d seen Otabek casually holding the cat like it was normal. Finally, his boss seemed to find his words and said, “Well, I wouldn’t tell any of the women about it.” 

The words were meant with humor, and Otabek chuckled, before moving to get back to work.  _ Ironworker _ , Yuri used to call him, before he knew his name. It was hard and hot work, but it was  _ good _ work. Otabek liked going home with the sore muscles of a long day; it made him feel like he’d  _ accomplished _ something.

Before he’d come to this village, he’d worked as a weapons maker. His mother had wanted somewhere smaller though, than a capital city. And when Takeshi had seen his work first hand, he’d warned him that they rarely made such  _ delicate work _ . Otabek might have traded in swords and armor for horseshoes and gate handles, but the work was still satisfying.

Potya watched him, her eyes slitted narrow in interest. Not for the first time, Otabek wondered about the cat. She seemed to more than she let on, her expressions quite  _ human _ , for lack of a better description.

Perhaps that’s why he had taken to her. Or maybe all cats were like that, and he’d never bothered to find out.

Regardless, she stayed the entire night, watching him.

And the next night.

And every night after that.

The sparkle of her green eyes in the forgelight soothed him.

 

* * *

 

“Your mother is a fucking  _ wizard _ , Otabek.”

Otabek grunted at that. “Don’t mention my mother in the same sentence as the word  _ fuck _ ,” he warned, moving to tighten a screw. He was at Yuri’s home to fix a broken gate… but the amount of damage done was clearly intentional. “How did this even  _ happen _ ?” Otabek asked.

Yuri let out an aggravated groan. “ _ Mila _ .” Ah, the redhead. The village hadn’t forgotten the wager really, but most had just about given up, with the exception of her. “I refused the cake she brought me, so she took a hammer to my gate.”

Otabek paused, considering her work. “That was some hammer,” he replied.

“Yeah, a fucking twenty-pound  _ sledgehammer _ . What kind of baker has one of those laying around?”

Otabek shrugged, but smirked. Perhaps Mila had more spunk than he would have thought. “You take the food that I give you,” he said.

“Yeah, because as I was saying-- your mother is fu--” Yuri paused. “Your mother is  _ magic _ ,” he amended.

“Well, she  _ likes _ cooking extra food for you. She’s apparently  _ bored _ .”

“Yeah I know. I ate lunch with her the other day.”

Otabek paused again, looking to the other man. Yuri was sitting atop the stone ledge his legs crossed. He was dressed plainly that day, tan pants and a white cotton shirt that hung off of his shoulder. Otabek’s gaze drifted down his neck and to the collarbone that peeked out, and swallowed.

Yeah, it was becoming  _ undeniable _ by this point, his blossoming affection for the man.

“You ate with my mother?” he asked, trying to distract himself.

“You said she was lonely the other day, so I paid her a visit. She wasn’t surprised though.” Yuri gave Otabek a pointed look. “Apparently, you  _ say nice things about me _ .”

Otabek grunted at that. “Am I supposed to say  _ mean _ things about you? We’re friends.”

“ _ Friends _ ,” Yuri repeated, his expression a  _ little bit tight _ .

Otabek wondered what he had done to offend the man. “Isn’t that what you wanted? A friend?”

But Yuri waved the thought away. “No more distractions,” he said. “Fix the gate faster-- it’s hot out here.”

“You don’t have to  _ stay _ ,” Otabek said, raising his wrench once more.

“Then who would entertain your sorry ass, hmm? Potya?”

“Potya does just fine.”

Yuri huffed at that, but said nothing more, crossing his arms over his chest in mock offense. Otabek looked at him with a gentle smile, and Yuri met the gaze with one of his own.

Otabek faltered slightly, slicing his hand along a sharp edge of metal. He hissed slightly, yanking away, but Yuri had already moved. He grabbed at his hand, pulling it to his mouth, licking at the cut and--

Yuri paused, dropping Otabek’s hand immediately. “I uh--”

Otabek’s heartbeat so fast, he was pretty sure it would fly out of his chest. “What, cat got your tongue?” he joked, trying to temper the hammering behind his ribs.

Yuri turned bright red, and then said, “I’m going to-- I have bandages inside.” He was gone before Otabek could protest.

_ Ridiculous _ , Otabek told himself. Shouldn’t he have found that gross?  _ Wasn’t _ it? But instead all he could think about was the softness of Yuri’s tongue, the little kitten licks against his skin and-- Otabek groaned, pressing the heel of his hand against his forehead.

_ Undeniable _ , he reminded himself. It was  _ unfair, _ how much he suddenly wanted this man.

When Yuri returned, he said nothing as he cleaned the cut properly and wrapped it. And when Otabek went back to work, he said nothing either.

When Otabek was finished, he stood upright, and Yuri gathered himself to his feet. “Look, uh about--”

“Just make sure Mila doesn’t take another sledgehammer to it,” Otabek cut in, changing the subject. “First fix is free, but if it happens again I’m charging you double.”

It was an ill attempt at a joke, but Yuri smiled nonetheless. “Yeah, got it. Thanks, Otabek.”

Otabek was already out the gate and walking away, throwing a small wave in return.

 

* * *

 

Otabek wasn’t one for nature, but sometimes he’d take a picnic out to the trees behind his home. It was quiet, it smelled nice and it was a good place to  _ think _ .

He wasn’t remotely surprised to find Potya there, beside him. The moment that he’d set down the quilt and opened the oilcloth, she was already trying to get a sniff of the food.

“You only love me for my food,” he said in good nature. Potya looked at him with that slightly unnerving gaze of hers and Otabek sighed. He reached out to rub behind her ears, and she responded by climbing into his lap, purring deeply.

“You know, it’s stupid,” Otabek said to her. “When this whole thing started nearly a year ago, I thought it was silly. I never set out to be friends with you, it just happened.”

Potya blinked in response.

“And then there’s Yuri,” he said quietly. “Things are… well… I want to be better than everyone else. I don’t want him to think--” Otabek sighed heavily. “It’s changed, everything’s changed. I  _ like _ him Potya, and I don’t want him to think that I’m  _ just like them _ .” He paused again to rub at her scruff. “I’m talking to a fucking cat,” he finally deadpanned.

Yeah, this was officially a full-blown crisis, he’d decided. This was a crisis, He didn’t know what to do anymore and he’d resorted to  _ asking for advice from a cat. _

“It’s not like you can even answer,” he said, regarding her regretfully.

Potya blinked again, before turning over in his lap, legs up and purring. Otabek reached out, scratching along her belly, rubbing the soft skin there and-- He raised an eyebrow, dipping down to look closer.

“Potya… you’re a boy?”

The cat in reply purred softly under his hand, enjoying the attention. Otabek wracked his brain, thinking back-- no, Yuri had  _ definitely _ referred to the cat as a  _ her _ . But Potya  _ clearly _ wasn’t. Not that Otabek really cared-- a cat was a cat at the end of all things.

When he asked Yuri about it a few days later, the man only smiled slyly in return and said, “People assume that she’s a girl because of her testy nature. No point in correcting them.”

“So Potya is a boy… and that’s why he’s testy?” Otabek didn’t pretend to know anything about cats.

“No, he’s testy because people assume everything about him. They refuse to listen, even when they’re spoken plainly to.”

Otabek mulled over his words. “Yuri, you aren’t making sense.”

“No, I always make sense,” the man replied. “You just aren’t listening. You really  _ are _ just like them.”

There was something about his words that made Otabek pause, but when he moved to ask, Yuri was gone. Otabek’s mouth hung open in confusion because it’s not like the man could just  _ disappear _ .

And then Potya appeared from around the gate, rubbing against Otabek’s legs before scampering off.

It was official, Otabek decided. He was going  _ insane. _

 

* * *

 

Otabek’s sister still lived in the capital, but she had managed to convince her husband to bring her on a long trip to visit. So, after three days straight on horseback, she’d settled quite comfortably against a seat in front of the fire. 

Potya was there too. Potya  _ always _ seemed to be there, though Yuri hadn’t been around. Otabek hadn’t seen a slip of the man since their last talk-- which Otabek was now seeing as a small  _ argument _ . What it was about though, he had no idea.

Otabek thought he had figured the man out, but he had been  _ clearly _ wrong.

The cat purred against his hand, reaching into it. Maya eyes the creature warily. “You going to explain where that thing came from?”

“Potya isn’t a  _ thing _ .”

“So you just have a cat now?”

“No, it’s--” Otabek paused to sigh. “He belongs to a friend. Sometimes he lets himself in.”

Maya raised an eyebrow at that. “You have a friend?”

Otabek mirrored her expression. “That’s what you take away from this?”

“ _ Beka, _ you don’t have friends. You’ve  _ never _ had friends,” she said matter-of-factly.

“I’ve had--” he started, but stopped the moment he saw the look that Maya gave him. He grimaced slightly. “Okay, so maybe I’m not the most approachable person--” She snorted at that. “But I’m not  _ mean _ .”

“Last I checked, being mean isn’t a requirement. You just don’t  _ do people _ .” Otabek huffed at that and she smiled in triumph. “Anyway, tell me about this  _ friend _ .” The way she said the word made it clear that she saw  _ right _ through him.

“Maya, it’s not like that.”

“Beka, you can’t hide shit from me. We shared a  _ womb _ .” It was what she always said, when she was trying to prove a point. The worst part was that she wasn’t wrong.

“Yuri is… Well he’s--”

“He?” she cut in, interested.

“Are you going to let me finish, or not?” he snapped. Maya motioned for him to do so, leaning back in the chair. “He’s unlike any other person I’ve ever met. At first he seems like this angry ball of bad attitude, and he’s got a mouth to match. But then… you get to know him, and he’s nothing actually like that. He’s more bite than bark and-- Ouch!”

Potya had nipped him on the hand, a first, and while he didn’t break skin it had still hurt. Otabek glared at the cat, who glared right back.

Maya raised her eyebrows. “I think Potya disagrees with you.”

“Potya doesn't know what he--  _ Potya _ !” The cat bit harder this time, before pulling away and slinking out of his lap. He moved to curl up in front of the fireplace, the blaze turning his fur an orange hue.

“Anyway,” Maya said, “Seems like you and Yuri are friends now.”

“I--”

“But that’s not  _ all _ you want,” she surmised.

Otabek snapped his mouth shut. “I don’t know what I want,” he confessed quietly. “But there’s-- it’s not just me,” he continued. “At least I don’t think it is. Yuri is hard to read.” Maya hummed at that. “Part of me wonders if it’s the wager.”

“Wager?”

“Yuri is the most eligible bachelor around. Women have sought him out, since he moved here. He got tired of it and turned it into a game.”

“Explain.”

“He said whoever could catch his cat and get his house key from around his neck, would have his hand.” He waved to Potya nonchalantly. “I didn’t really ever think about it. I didn’t go about trying to  _ catch  _ Potya, he just kind of happened. And because of that, Yuri and I happened.”

“And suddenly your thinking about-- well, you know.” She waved toward the cat.

“What do I do Maya? Being a  _ friend _ isn’t enough anymore. I want--” Otabek sighed, pressing a fist against his forehead, letting out a frustrated grunt.

“Use your words,” Maya said kindly. It was something that their father used to tell him, when he became tongue-tied, unable to express what he felt. Which when he was a child, was more often than not. Even as an adult, he still wasn’t very articulate.

“I  _ love _ him, Maya,” Otabek said quietly.

Maya hummed at that, and Potya picked up his head. It was a relief, Otabek realized, finally voicing the thought. Potya picked himself up from the rug and sauntered back over to Otabek, curling into his lap. Otabek slid his hand into the soft fur until his hand found the key wound around the cat’s neck, fingering it gently. Potya moved his head to press into his palm, licking at the skin there gently.

“I think he’s forgiven you,” Maya said with amusement.

“He’s a  _ cat _ ,” Otabek murmured. But he leaned over to press his forehead into the soft fur. Potya, despite all things, was a comfort to him now.

“Take the key,” Maya said finally.

Otabek snapped up. “ _ What--” _

“I mean, that’s the wager, right? Take the key and go tell him.”

“But what if Yuri doesn’t--”

“I mean, it’s not like you’d  _ force _ him to marry you, Beka,” Maya said plainly.

Of course Otabek wouldn’t. It would be Yuri’s choice, because if he didn’t-- well, it meant nothing, if Yuri didn’t share those feelings. He fingered the key once more, and Potya shifted in his lap, belly up and looking at him plainly. Those green eyes, Otabek had always thought about those green eyes--

So much like Yuri’s, he suddenly realized, and his hand paused in the cat’s fur.

_ It couldn’t be _ .

“Besides, Mom  _ likes _ him,” Maya continued. “She’s already given approval.”

But Otabek was barely listening, still regarding the cat. And Potya returned the gaze, far too knowing for a  _ pet _ , his green eyes twinkling in the firelight.

_ Impossible _ .

But Potya waited expectantly, his chin tipped back.

Otabek slipped the key from around his neck.

 

* * *

 

There was quite a commotion in town, once Mila realized the key from around Potya’s neck had disappeared. 

“It’s obvious,” she snapped angrily. Her bakery was only a stone’s throw from the Smithy, and Otabek watched here while he broke for lunch. She stomped angrily from the storehouse to the building proper. “Yuri took it off, because he’s tired of it.”

Sara tapped her cheek thoughtfully, sitting on a crate. “Yuri is a lot of things-- annoying being the first-- but he doesn’t seem the type to go back on his word.” Sara, of course, was right.

Mila snorted at that. “It’s not like it just  _ disappeared _ .”

Otabek shoved his hand into his trouser pocket, where the key sat like a hot stone. He fingered it lightly, his heart beating wildly at the idea of  _ actually using it _ . Take the key, his sister had told him.  _ Take the key, and tell him _ .

Like it was that fucking simple. 

“I mean, what if someone caught her?” Sara quipped, causing Mila to turn and just  _ look _ at her. Sara then shrugged. “Right, right, that’s not likely. Potya is one slippery little  _ hellion _ .”

“All Potya needed was some coaxing,” Otabek said, before he could stop himself. Both of the women turned to look at him, as if they’d just realized he was there.

“ _ Needed _ ?” Mila asked.

Otabek shrugged. “All you did was chase him around.”

“Her,” Mila corrected. “Potya is a girl.”

“Well, that shows that you’ve never been close enough to see that’s not the case.”

“And you have?” Sara then asked.

Otabek opened his mouth to respond, but paused. As if on cue, the cat in question slinked around the Smithy, his tail curling back and forth. He looked almost  _ haughty _ , and Otabek nearly laughed.

Mila stood straighter, about to make a run for the cat… only to watch Potya sidle up to Otabek, where he leaned against the door jam of the building. The cat leaned against his leg, rubbing along his pant leg, as he reached out to rub at his ears.

The women gawked at the casual nature of the touch.

“You--”

“What--”

“You were so focused on wanting Yuri, that you didn’t  _ listen _ to him. He told you how to win the game.”

“You…” Mila started, “You weren’t even  _ playing _ .”

“Which is probably why I won.”

Mila blinked at that, while Sara sat straighter, interested. Otabek stood as well, Potya slinking around his ankles, pressing against him. “Won?” she asked, “Hey, wait, where are you going?”

Otabek reached into his pocket again, pulling out the key. It dangled from his grasp from a thin leather cord. Sara grasped and Mila turned red in anger, as Otabek turned to walk away without another word.

Potya traipsed alongside him, like it was where he  _ belonged _ .

 

* * *

 

Potya waited for him on the porch.

He hadn’t meant to gloat in front of the women, but the moment had been  _ too good _ to waste. Otabek didn’t regret it one bit. Even as he stood in front of Yuri’s house, the key practically burning a hole in his pocket.

It was like a hot coal-- he didn’t know whether to use it, or toss it away. 

Potya was patient though, as he considered his options. The cat sat upon the porch, peering back quietly as his tailed swished back and forth. Waiting. Otabek watched him for a moment, before stepping closer and going, “I must be an idiot, Potya. I must be stupid, to think that this will work.”

Potya  _ meowed _ at him. Over the last year, he’d never heard the cat make a peep, and in that moment it spoke volumes. Otabek knelt down again, reaching out to press his fingers into his fur. “He meant for you to chose, didn’t he? Cats have good intuition. He wouldn’t be with someone that you didn’t like, right?”

Potya rubbed against his hand, and then when Otabek stood, moved to slink around his legs. The cat followed, when Otabek stepped onto the porch. This was the furthest he’d ever come onto Yuri’s property, he realized.

He pulled the key from his pocket, slipping it into the lock and turned. He half expected it to be a farce and to not work, but the tumblers tipped and the key with them. Otabek stared at his hand, his heart suddenly pounding.

And he hesitated, unsure if this was worth risking his friendship.

_ Go and tell him _ .

Potya meowed again and Otabek opened the door, stepping inside.

He wasn’t sure what he expected, but it wasn’t the neat and tidy home he saw. Tons or books, tons of plants, tons of  _ things _ , all neatly tucked away into their place. Shelves full of knick-knacks and trinkets, neat and with order.

Potya slipped past his leg, into the main living area. Otabek regarded him briefly, before turning away and closing the door behind him. And when he turned back, there was Yuri, leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed over his chest.

Yuri always seemed to sneak up on him, Otabek realized. Always so quiet, appearing from nowhere. That day, he wore dark green trousers and that white cotton shirt that hung loosely on him. His hair shined like sunlight, tied into a tail and hanging over one shoulder. Otabek’s mouth went dry at the sight.

“You know,” Yuri said first, his tone twinkling with amusement, “of all the people who chased after the key, I definitely wasn’t expecting  _ you.” _

“I wasn’t playing the game,” Otabek answered honestly. “The wager didn’t mean a thing to me.”

“You were the only one who listened,” Yuri replied, his lips twisting into a smirk. “Every time that I gave you a clue.”

“Why give me clues?” Otabek asked.

“Why use the key?” Yuri retorted. He pushed away from the doorframe and stepped closer. “Why open the door? Beka, what is it that you want?”

“I--”

_ Beka _ . The word brought him pause, because Maya was the only one who called him that. Yuri was close to him now, leaning down ever so slightly, his green eyes practically searing straight through him

“Beka, use your words,” Yuri soothed.

“ _ Potya _ ,” Otabek suddenly blurted, recognition flooding through him, and--

“Yes?” Yuri replied easily, that smirk returning immediately.

Otabek wasn’t crazy. Or he was, and Yuri was, and everything  _ was _ . But he he knew, Otabek  _ knew _ \-- he would recognize those crystal green depths anywhere. And suddenly, a  _ lot _ of things made sense. Things like Yuri randomly disappearing, blurting phrases he had no reason of knowing, the childhood nickname only his sister used.

It sounded  _ far _ better, coming from Yuri.

“How?” Otabek finally managed.

Yuri reached out, dragging a finger down Otabek’s shirt, and suddenly he felt dirty. He had come from work, he was covered in grime and ash, he was  _ nothing _ compared to the other man. But Yuri didn’t seem to mind, his hand finding his waistband, resting there.

“I told you didn't I? Potya and I are one and the same.”

“But-- You--”

“Is this okay, Beka?” Yuri asked suddenly.

“ _ Yes _ ,” Otabek said immediately. “I’ll admit though, I’m confused.”

Yuri’s head cocked to the side. “About what?” And when Otabek didn’t answer, Yuri continued with, “ _ Words _ .”

“I love you,” Otabek suddenly blurted.

Yuri pulled back slightly to look at him, moving his hands to rest on Otabek’s shoulders. And then Yuri smiled, a genuine, wide thing, and it took his breath away with how beautiful it was. And then it hit Otabek-- no one had ever seen Yuri like this, no one had ever  _ tried _ .

Except for him.

“Those are good words,” Yuri said. “I’ve wanted to hear them for awhile.”

“Good things come to those who wait,” Otabek replied, causing Yuri to throw his head back and laugh. Otabek reached out then, grabbing the other man’s chin between his thumb and forefinger. Yuri stopped and looked at him, his lips still twisted upward and his eyes sparkling. “How long have you been waiting, Yuri?”

“Longer than I’d care to admit,” he replied.

“Was it worth it?” Otabek asked. “Am I worth it?”

“Every fucking moment.”

Otabek pulled his chin down, pressing their lips together. Yuri laughed into the kiss, moving to wrap his arms around Otabek, pulling him closer and Otabek smiled against his lips.

It was perfect. Yuri was perfect.

Everything was  _ perfect _ .

 

…

  
  
  
  
  



	2. Extras

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is less of an epilogue, and more of little snippets. Some are scenes that didn't make it into the first part, others are just little earworms that became words. I could have made each one a chapter for each, but I'm not really one for drabbles, and so I just collected them here. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy these little extras. They aren't beta'd, sorry!

**_The Lonely Listen_ **

 

It should have been obvious that he would ask, and really to Otabek’s credit, he waited longer than Yuri would have thought.

“Yuri,” he had begun with. Yuri looked up from his work, hands deep in a pot of soil. It was Otabek’s off day, so he spent it by his side. Yuri didn’t have off days really, he _worked whenever_. And whenever was at that moment, weeding part of his garden. “I uh---”

“Use your words,” Yuri replied easily. He’d come to learn that Otabek wasn’t the most articulate man, and the phrase he’d picked up from Maya had become useful. Otabek never got angry about it, instead it seemed to ground him.

“It’s a weird question,” Otabek finally said. “Are you--” A paused and a deep breathe, almost like he was _afraid_ to ask. Yuri frowned. How ridiculous. “Are you a cat? Or human?”

Yuri blinked at him, momentarily caught off guard. Really, he _should_ have expected it, but Otabek wasn’t the type to pry, which is why he was surprised the man had actually asked. So far, Otabek had just _accepted_ the entire thing without question.

Finally, Yuri sighed, pulling his fingers out of the soil and wiping them on the rag across his lap. “I’m a cat,” he said quietly, digging the rag along his joints. Otabek waited for him to continue, and part of Yuri didn’t want to.

He didn’t want to scare the man off.

“I’m a cat, who became lonely,” he elaborated. “Humans wanted nothing to do with me the way I was, and so, I learned to become human.”

Otabek nodded, absorbing this information. And Yuri waited, expecting him to turn tail. But Otabek didn’t, instead holding out his hand. Yuri leaned over, grabbing it and Otabek laced their fingers together.

“Humans are stupid,” Otabek replied. “We don’t listen.”

“Except for you,” Yuri said with a smile. After all, that was how he’d won the game to begin with.

“I only listen to the things that are important to me.” And with that, Otabek leaned over, pecking a kiss onto Yuri’s temple. He had to lean up, but Yuri helped by meeting him halfway.

 

**_The Ironworker_ **

 

The game had been a stupid bet to get the women away from him, hell to get _anyone_ away from him. No meant no, and it was baffling how humans just _didn’t accept that as an answer_.

And then there was the man, the dark-haired and tanned one. The one who looked like he just _didn’t fit in_ , with his stocky build and furrowed brow, already covered in a what smelled like a thin layer of ash.

 _The Ironworker_.

Yuri’s nose twitched at the sight of him, let alone the smell. The man paused at the stone ledge, regarding Yuri. It was strange, since he was a cat, and up until that point the entire village had literally _ignored_ this form of his.

Unless it was to bat him away from a building with a broom, since you know, _that was cool_.

This man would be like the rest of them, then, Yuri could tell. But he didn’t try to catch him. He didn’t chase after him, he didn’t even try to pet him. Which gave Yuri pause. And so, he waited to see what would happen.

“Keep it up,” the man would finally say. “The running away thing. He’s depending on you.”

Yuri blinked and it took a moment to realize what he had meant.

The man had wanted Yuri to remain _free_.

Well, there was a first for everything, he supposed.

 

**_Age is a Number_ **

 

“You said you’d been waiting for awhile,” Otabek asked one night.

They were sitting together on Yuri’s porch swing, something that saw little use before Otabek came along. Which by that point had been _long enough_ , Yuri supposed.

Then again, they’d spent nearly a year becoming _friends_ , which in Yuri’s mind was a year too long. Humans were annoying creatures sometimes, always puttering around and taking their time. Cats did things with purpose. They didn’t beat around the bush; when they wanted something, they took.

Humans were different. Otabek was different. He moved with purpose as well, but in a calculated kind of way, where he took time to make careful decisions. Really, he should have just gone with his gut from the beginning, because it would have meant they’d have made it to the _snuggling_ sooner.

And Yuri liked the snuggling. Otabek was warm like a furnace, and Yuri loved to lean in and just _melt_ against him. Some things never changed, be it cat or human, and he had _instincts_. At least, that’s what he blamed it on.

“Yeah, I was,” Yuri finally said, answering Otabek’s question. Yuri was too tall to tuck himself underneath Otabek’s chin, but he managed to press his nose into the space near his ear. It would do.

“For what exactly?” Yuri paused at the loaded question. He knew that Otabek hadn’t really _meant_ it that way. Otabek must have seen the change in his demeanor, because he then said, “Hey, _Yura_ , what is it?”

“It’s just-- I mean, I _know_ what you meant, but the question weighs a little heavier than I would have thought, I guess.”

Otabek hummed at that. “I was curious as to how long you have _loved_ me,” he clarified. “Since I was apparently late to the party. Anything else that’s your mind-- well, you don’t have to tell me if you aren’t comfortable with it.”

“That’s… that’s a relief,” he sighed, nuzzling Otabek’s neck. “And to answer your question, there wasn’t a solid _moment_ . But I mean, I _did_ go eat lunch with your mother. Many times.”

Otabek chuckled, his chest rumbling low. He couldn’t purr, but it was close, and it made Yuri smile against his skin. “Beka?” Yuri ventured again. Otabek rubbed a hand along his knee in response. “To answer your other question--”

“Yura, I told you that you didn’t have too--”

“It’s been a long time,” was the quiet answer. “Long enough that I don’t really remember.”

Otabek’s hand paused on his thigh, squeezing the muscle gently. “Then it doesn't matter. Age is only a number.”

 

**_Warmth_ **

 

Yuri remembered the exact moment, actually. The one where he fell in love with Otabek.  It was a little bit embarrassing, so he would settle for Otabek inferring his own thoughts from his answer.

_“If you want some of my mother’s cooking Yuri, just ask.”_

Yuri had been about to scoff at such a thought, but then Otabek had held out the oilcloth. Yuri didn’t _need_ to ask him. Otabek was constantly feeding _sweet little Potya_ . It didn’t change the fact that his mother’s cooking was literal magic, and he could _smell_ it from the tiny and neat little package.

_“Here, take it. Share it with Potya.”_

And Yuri had looked at it warily, like it was a trap. For cats, some things were instinctual. Things like being innately distrustful. But Otabek had fed him. Otabek had fed him, not wanting anything in return, and here he was doing the same for him, but as a human.

Warmth spread across his chest, and Yuri’s heart fluttered awkwardly as he took the parcel.

He liked that warmth.

He wanted to feel it again.

 

**_Trinkets_ **

 

Otabek was the kind of man who kept minimal possessions, which was why Yuri’s house bothered him.

Well, maybe bother was a strong word, but it definitely made him uncomfortable. Yuri was a packrat and the dramatic irony of it wasn’t lost on him. It wasn’t that he liked _shiny_ things, he just kept the things that looked neat. Or smelled interesting. Or had a cool color.

And Gods above, don’t start him on books, because the moment he’d learned how to read, his life had been _over_.

Otabek stood there awkwardly in the den, holding a book in his hand. “Yuri,” he said, “this is written in a language that isn’t even _spoken_ anymore.”

Yuri leaned over, plucking it from his fingers. “What do you mean _not spoken_?”

“This is Latin.”

“And no one speaks it? How do you think I learned it?”

The look Otabek gave him was something between astonishment and horror. “Yura, how long ago did you learn how to read?”

Yuri thought, really he tried, but he couldn’t pinpoint it. Finally, he shrugged and told him to toss it in the far bookshelf _with the others_. “I just collect things over the years,” Yuri finally said. “I know it might be overwhelming for you, Beka, but these things are my life. They show what I’ve lived.”

Otabek didn’t answer him after that, but Yuri _did_ notice the slightly warm look on the man’s face, as he looked through Yuri’s home with a new set of eyes.

 

**_Lick_ **

 

There was a very distinct moment that had happened during their long journal to becoming a pair, that Otabek had never quite forgotten.

When he’d been fixing Yuri’s gate after MIla had destroyed it with a sledgehammer. He’d sliced his hand along the metal coupling, hissing at the bite against his skin. And Yuri-- who’d been sitting next to him-- reaching out for his hand and licking it.

At the moment, it had been a wanted, if _odd_ moment, but in retrospect it made a lot of fucking sense. Yuri licked _everything_. A weird smell? A quick sniff, and then a lick to taste. Something on his fingers? His tongue would dart out to catch whatever it was.

At that moment, Otabek’s gaze flickered over to Yuri, laying across his bed. Leaning against the headboard, a book propped up in his lap, his mouth moving along as he read silently. He got distracted, slicing his hand open on the shears that he held.

He hissed slightly, and Yuri’s nose flared, and they met each other’s gaze quickly.

“It’s just uh--” Otabek stuttered slightly. Maybe it was stupid, trying to cut a length of leather while he was distracted, especially when he _never_ brought his work home. “It’s not that bad--”

“Beka,” Yuri interrupted, “Come here.”

He did, setting aside his leatherwork. He gave Yuri had hand when prompted, and the other man poked at it, as he surveyed the damage. But only looked, and Otabek’s heart lurched, just _wanting._

This was becoming more common, he had noticed, the _heat_ . As much as they apparently loved each other, they relationship was fairly innocent, because in the words of Yuri-- _they had plenty of time_.

“I should go home,” Yuri said, about to drop his hand.

“Stay,” Otabek breathed, before he could stop himself. And Yuri _looked_ at him, and he saw it there, that raw and unbridled affection. “ _Stay,”_ he repeated, before Yuri could fully pull away.

Yuri blinked slowly, his lips curling into a feral-looking grin, as he pulled Otabek’s hand to his lips.

 

**_Name_ **

 

“Where did the name Potya come from?”

Yuri blinked, looking to Otabek, who was busy stuffing his mouth with manti. Courtesy of the man’s mother, of course. Yuri had come to expect such questions, but that was a rather silly one, with a fairly boring answer.

“It’s what a boy named me once,” Yuri replied, picking up his own bite of food.

“A boy?” At that, Otabek properly looked at him.

“I mean, don’t children name their pets?”

“ _You’ve been a pet_?” The incredulous tone was almost laughable.

“Of _course_ I’ve been a pet. Don’t I seem the type to lavish in the attention?” Otabek looked away, considering that for a moment, before popping another bite into his mouth. “Puma Tiger Scorpion,” Yuri finished with.

“Eh?”

“ _Puma Tiger Scorpion_ ,” Yuri repeated, this time slower. Really, humans needed to listen better. Yuri had no idea how they got _anything_ done. “Potya is a nickname.”

Otabek snickered at that. “That’s a hell of a name,” he finally said with a chuckle.

“Yeah well, it was one hell of a kid.”

“I like the name _Yura_ better,” Otabek finally said, leaning back in his chair.

Yuri smiled at him, around a mouthful of food. Yeah, he did too.

 

**_Bond_ **

 

Marriage was one of those human concepts that was lost on Yuri.

For cats, you picked a partner and that was that. Sometimes you stayed with them, but usually you didn’t. For Yuri to _fall in love_ , let alone want to _stay_ was a new and exhilarating experience.

When Otabek got down on one knee and proposed, Yuri was confused. Otabek didn’t _need_ to ask him, wasn’t it _obvious?_ And Yuri had blurted, “Why would I want to do that?” And the look on Otabek’s face as it fell… well, Yuri could practically _hear_ his heart crack into two, and shit, he’d fucked this up.

And when he fucked shit up, he did what he did best-- he ran away, shifting effortlessly into a cat and disappearing into the brush to sort out his thoughts.

Otabek was sitting on his porch later that night, fiddling with something. Yuri slinked up in his cat form, unwilling to bother him but--

“Yura,” Otabek said quietly, and Yuri cursed. Of course he’d notice him, Otabek _always_ did.

Yuri shifted easily, feeling his bones pop and creak is his form changed. Otabek watched silently, as Yuri plopped beside him on the porch step with a sigh.

“The _last_ thing I want to do, is make you think that I don’t want _us_ ,” was the first thing that he said.

“Yura, I asked you to marry me,” Otabek said flatly. Not angry but just… _flat_. It wasn’t a tone that Yuri liked; it made his insides squirm with discomfort. “You said--”

“I know _exactly_ what I said,” Yuri interrupted, holding a hand out. “Please listen.”

“ _Please_ .” Otabek snorted at that. Yuri never requested anything, so he thought it _funny_.

“I was under the impression that we’re already _together_ ,” Yuri finally said.

Otabek blinked at that. “Well, _yes_ , but I asked--”

“I _know_ what you asked, Beka. I’m confused as to _why_ you asked it.”

Otabek looked at him incredulously. “Why would I-- _Yura,_ why wouldn’t I?”

Yuri sighed again, pinching the bridge of his nose to clear his thoughts. “No, no, that’s not what I meant. Shit, I’m just really bad at--” He paused, taking a breath. “We _already_ have that, so why would you have to ask?”

“Already…”

“I mean, I thought it was _obvious_ .” Otabek still had that blank, uncomprehending look on his face. Time to try another tactic. “Beka,” he asked, “What _is_ marriage to you?”

Otabek thought about how to word it. Yuri could _see_ his brain trying to form a way to properly explain it. “It’s a pledge,” he finally managed. “It’s a commitment to stay together.”

“And you think that we don’t have that?” Yuri asked simply.

“No, we do but--” Then Otabek thought about it. “This must be weird for you,” he finally realized.

“I’ve _always_ been weirded out by people asking me to marry them, Otabek-- usually because they were strangers. But coming from you? It made me feel like what we have isn’t _enough_.”

“Oh, Yura,” Otabek finally breathed, and his entire posture just kind of _melted_. “That’s not what I-- I didn’t mean--”

“I know that I fucked it up,” Yuri cut in. “And I’ve been figuring out how to fix it.”

“You don’t have to fix anything,” Otabek said, still wringing his hands in his lap. Yuri finally looked at what it was that he held, and he held his hand out for it. Otabek dropped the ring into his hands without much of a thought.

It was a simple thing, really, just a gold band. But Yuri recognized Otabek’s work anywhere. “I didn’t know you could make jewelry,” he finally said, turning it over in his palm.

“I don’t do it, really,” the other man said, nervously rubbing at his neck.

“Do you really think that I _don’t_ want this, Beka? That I don’t want us?”

“Yura,” Otabek started carefully, “I never really know what you want.”

Yuri slipped the ring on immediately, showing him, and Otabek let out a laugh. “What?”

“Yura, that’s the wrong finger.” He reached out, tan fingers brushing along his pale ones, slipping the ring back off gently.

“How is there a _wrong_ finger?”

“You wear it on this one,” Otabek said, tapping the proper one. “They say that there’s a vein that leads straight to the heart.”

“That’s sappy, even for you,” Yuri muttered. But he waited, and Otabek noticed. “You gonna put it on, or what?” Otabek complied and it fit perfectly. “There. Married.”

“Yura that’s not--”

“It’s good enough for me, not that you even _needed_ to ask.”

Otabek looked at him, his eyes crinkling softly with affection. He reached out, grasping his hand, pulling it up to kiss the ring gently. Yuri later demanded that Otabek help him forge a matching ring.

And so he did.

 

**_Years_ **

 

It was astounding, how you can know someone, and still learn something about them.

Otabek was older now. He stiff in his back, crow’s feet just starting to sprinkle the skin around his eyes and his hair was starting to silver. And if he’d been good looking before, Yuri thought he was _divine_ like this. It was like he woke up one morning and finally noticed.

“You never really change,” Otabek finally said one night, as they settled down. Yuri was sprawled next to him, stretched out and pressing into the other man’s warmth. Otabek, always like a fucking furnace. He couldn’t get enough.

Before, Yuri had never really thought about it. People around him aged, and he really didn’t. And when they were too old, he’d leave and find somewhere new. The village had _started_ asking questions, not ever quite putting two-and-two together, even though he’d practically spelled it out more times than not.

It wasn’t his fault that most humans were stupid as fuck.

But Otabek’s words settled into the pit of his stomach, oily and distinct. For the first time in his life, he didn’t want to _leave_. He could fathom such a thing.

“It’s not a complaint,” Otabek continued with, his voice tired from a long day of work. He’d noticed Yuri’s silence.

“I’ve never been scared before,” Yuri admitted quietly.

At that, Otabek turned his face towards him. “Scared? Of what?”

“Beka, I’m--” But he couldn’t really finish the sentence.

Otabek’s hand lifted, pressing against his face, rubbing against the soft skin there. “Hey,” he soothed. “Whatever it is, it’ll be okay.”

Yuri closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “I know,” he replied. And then he moved, sitting up and stretching over Otabek like a tiger stalking its prey. He straddled the man’s hips and Otabek’s hands found his waist with a familiarity that nearly made Yuri’s heart crumble.

“I’ve loved many people, Beka,” he said. “Owners, people who’ve feed me, people that let me be but-- with you it’s different. I don’t want to lose that.”

“Yura, I’m not going anywhere.”

Yuri sighed. “Nevermind--”

“I don’t get it.” Yuri met Otabek’s pensive gaze. “I will never understand, Yura, I’ve never _been_ there. But--” He paused to cup his cheek again. “I’m here _now_ , and I will be for a long time.”

Yuri smiled at that, reaching up to clasp his hand. He turned to kiss Otabek’s palm. “Usually I leave, when people start to notice.”

“Then we’ll leave--”

“Nah, let them fucking notice. I don’t care anymore.”

“I love you,” Otabek said, and the adoration in his voice made Yuri’s heart soar.

He’d lived a long fucking time, but he would never tired of hearing it, hearing _that_. He would never tire of Otabek. Yuri leaned over and Otabek leaned up to kiss his nose sweetly. Otabek grabbed his hand, the one with his wedding ring and kissed that too. He always did that, a sappy little gesture that Yuri loved more than literally anything.

“Gross,” Yuri teased, and Otabek laughed.

 

**_Baby_ **

 

Yuri stared at the basket, not sure what to do.

“Beka?” he called out, his hand gripping the doorframe tightly. It was early, and Beka came up behind him half dressed and groggy with sleep. Yuri smiled at his mussed hair, before he remembered-- _“Hurry,”_ he hissed.

“What is it?”

“There’s a-- well, just come look.”

Yuri moved out of the way, so Otabek could peer around, his eyes widening slightly as he saw the basket. And then he shuffled out of the door, tucking under Yuri’s arm, reaching into the basket and--

The bundle let out an angry cry, and Otabek moved to soothe it. “Shh, it’s okay,” he said quietly, holding the baby against his chest.

“Who would leave it here?”

Otabek paused, peering into the blankets quickly. “Him,” Otabek corrected, before arranging them back around the child. “He can’t be more than a day old,” he murmured quietly.

“Who the hell just--”

“Shh, Yura, he’s fussy.” Yuri snapped his mouth shut, watching as Otabek whispered quietly and the baby cooed lightly in his arms. Yuri’s heart _lurched_. As men, this was something that they wouldn’t ever have, that Yuri had never even entertained.

And it wasn’t his first time seeing Otabek with a child. Maya had children and Otabek often doted on the locals but-- _this was different_. There was something intimate and just… he couldn’t describe it.

It was a long moment, before Otabek spoke, swaying gently. “We can take him too--”

“No,” Yuri said, cutting him off. “Bring him inside.”

“Yura…”

“Just… it’s fine,” he replied lamely. “It’s too cold out here for him. Let’s warm him up at least.”

Otabek hesitated, because he could already tell the that moment he crossed the threshold, that child wasn’t ever leaving him. Yuri was the kind of person that just _claimed_ others, and he’d claimed this kid too. But then Otabek smiled, patting the boy’s back and moved to step in. Yuri caught his sleeve, pausing him, leaning over to nuzzle his neck. And then, to get a proper look at the kid. At least he smelled decent. He reached out, patting the downy hair that covered his head.

“I’ve never really seen a baby,” he admitted. Only older children and adults.

“He’s cute now.”

Yuri hummed at that, thinking that he’d be cute always.

He should have listened to his husband.

 

**_Child_ **

 

Otabek had been worried about raising a child, but Yuri had silently claimed the kid for him.

Yuri wasn’t someone that he thought would have been good with kids, but he was proven wrong. The best they’d figured, is that a traveller had gone into birth on the road, and left the kid at the nearest house. Otabek wasn’t one for _fate_ , but Yuri had apparently taken it as a sign.

“Am I just old, or did our child learn to walk overnight?”

“Alexei is eight,” Otabek deadpanned.

“Oh, right.” And then Yuri nudged him gently. “Can’t complain much anymore, right?”

“He’s cute _now_ ,” Otabek said, words often repeated. “I’m too old for this.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Yuri said with a wave. “You wouldn’t change him.”

“You’re right.”

Yuri was. Otabek wouldn’t change anything.

 

**_Forever_ **

 

The porch swing was their favorite place. Otabek leaned against one side, Yuri’s feet in his lap. His fingers massaged his arches, knuckles cracking as he did so. Yuri sighed into the touch, his head hanging back and his eyes closed.

It’d been like this for a long time, this domestic bliss.

“Did you think we’d ever get there, Beka?” he asked.

Otabek hummed at that. “You always ask me that, when there’s something on your mind.”

“No, there’s nothing-- I’m just thinking of how much I love you.”

Otabek cracked a smile at that, his hands pausing in their work. They were older now, Otabek’s head more silver than black and a clipped beard covering his face. Yuri knew that it was less about style, and more about laziness.

And Yuri had grown too, cutting his hair short and gaining a wrinkle here and there. He marveled at it, really. His hair still shown like sunlight, but there was an undeniable ache in his bones. That ache though was _satisfying_ and he wasn’t afraid anymore.

Alexei was grown and moved out, married and on the other side of the village. So Yuri and Otabek only had themselves.

“Is this what you imagined?” Otabek finally replied.

“Never,” Yuri said truthfully.

“Mila is _still_ angry--”

“That old hag can shove it,” Yuri snapped and Otabek chuckled, letting go of his foot.

Yuri moved, rearranging himself to slot next to Otabek’s side. “Really, it’s all her fault. If she hadn’t annoyed me so much, I would have never wagered with her.”

“With the whole village,” Otabek amended.

“ _Whatever_ . Point is that she can’t complain, but _she_ made this happen.”

Otabek hummed, his arm wrapping around Yuri’s shoulders. They sat like that, just watching everything for awhile, before Yuri said, “I’m tired.”

“I can tell,” Otabek replied.

Of course he could., Otabek could tell _everything_.  “It’s a good tired,” Yuri explained. “It’s a satisfying kind of tired. The kind of tired that comes from contentment.”

Otabek’s face creased with affection and happiness, and he leaned over to kiss him. And yuri kissed him back, sweet and tender, a reminder of their journey there. Cats were solitary creatures, but they had both taken a gamble-- and it had paid off.

“You’re still perfect,” Otabek sighed.

“You’re still a sap.”

“Always,” Otabek replied. Yuri blinked at that, at the change in tone. Otabek’s hand found his knee, squeezing gently. “ _Always_.”

That’s what they had, and always would.

There wasn’t a luckier cat in the world.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is it, the enddddddd. I had so much fun writing this, tbh. 
> 
> As far as Yuri goes, it's vague about what he is. I didn't put a lot of thought into it, aside from 'He's a cat that learned to be human' and that he's 'very old'. Didn't think it really was that important, and Otabek probably doesn't either. 
> 
> Thank you everyone for reading!

**Author's Note:**

> 'To bell a cat' is a phrase used to describe a seemingly impossible task.


End file.
